


Noble/Peasant AU

by mari681



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mari681/pseuds/mari681
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a different age, and a different society. Blood was of utmost importance, second only to a persons’ magic.<br/>People married within their class, often marrying within their families in order to keep their blood-line pure.<br/>In fact, gender was less of a concern than blood or magic - there was always the option of a surrogate, or even a concubine. The blood may not be as noble, but the magic would be just a pure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m randomizing the order of the rest of these 30 day prompts, even though they are supposed to be done in order, but they will all be done.  
> They are about… twenty-two. Hadrian is 18 in the beginning section, so he has been on his own for four years, going on five.  
> Typically peasants marry at 16, nobility has more lee-way, especially those with magic. So, Ginny was marrying just when Hadrian left, but Draco isn't married yet.

  


It was a different age, and a different society. Blood was of utmost importance, second only to a persons’ magic.

People married within their class, often marrying within their families in order to keep their blood-line  pure . 

In fact, gender was less of a concern than blood or magic - there was always the option of a surrogate, or even a concubine. The blood may not be as noble, but the magic would be just a pure.

While all of those were true, often a family would prefer magic over blood - or blood over magic. Marriages were not arranged, but the families had the power to veto any marriage they did not approve of.

One of the most famous cases was that of the Malfoy-Potter debacle - a long, drawn out affair which trickled down into the following centuries as a feud no one knew the reason for. Even the families changed hands. In the far future, it was known as the Malfoy-Weasley feud, merely because the original ‘Potter’ was adopted by the Weasleys as an infant when his parents’ died of Dragon pox.

But in those days, the Weasleys’ were an unknown name, just as the Potters’ were. The Potters’ were slightly better known, as they were an off-shoot branch of the Godric line. However, they were an off-shoot branch due to the fact that the then-heir had married a new witch, barely better than a magic-less - and against his parents’ will, resulting in his disinheritance.

And history often repeats itself, just as it did in this case. The disinherited Potter and Wife passed away from an unusal case of adult dragon pox, leaving their only son, Hadrian Potter, to the care of their good friends, the Weasleys.

The Weasleys barely had enough, but they always had love, love which they freely showered on all of their children, including little Hadrian.

But love didn’t go far in this world. When Hadrian reached adult-hood, he had very little prospects, and he didn’t wish to place a burden on his foster-family any longer.

So, he put a brave face on, and said he was going to seek his fortune.

But Hadrian knew better. He had no trade - there was no money to apprentice him - and he was no brawny day-laborer. No, Hadrian was not blind to the realities of his situation. His birth parents had left nothing to him, as they had had nothing. His foster parents tried their best, but what they had could barely stretch to apprentice his brothers, and dowry his one sister.

No, he only had one option, the only option remaining for those in his situation.

~~~

He sighed, keeping his hand on the reins steady. No need to let his horse be spooked by some house-wife tossing water out of an upper-story window. This was an exercise in futility. Oh, the ride wasn’t. He adored riding. But his destination?  That was ridiculous. His parents  knew he would refuse any marriages to a female. Yes, if he married a male, he would  have to impregnate a woman for a heir - but that would be manageable.

Not only that, but Pansy was a bit of a simpleton. All she had mind for was clothes and jewelery. Oh, she could manage a household quite beautifully, and her own small household was a well-oiled wheel.

But he wanted more than that. He wanted something that his parents had never had. He wanted love.

Call him a romantic, but he wanted that one, little thing. Was love  really too much to ask for? Bloody hell, he would even settle for mere physical attraction! But of his peers, Pansy was the only one free with her affections - the others were paired up to their satisfaction.

A flash of brightly colored silk out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he pulled up his horse, looking around. He couldn’t help but gape as he saw what - or rather, who - had caught his attention. 

On a balcony just to the east of the road was a black-haired beauty leaning languidly over the railing. And, in spite of the face-paint (which  was rather fetching), quite obviously male by the muscles showing through his gaping silk over-robe.

The beauty grinned when he stopped, and waved, before resting his elbows on the railing, and leaning his chin on them. He cocked his head, and called down, his voice carrying easily. “So, handsome. You just gonna stare?”

~~~

Raven bit back a laugh as the blond just stared at him. So  adorable. Had he never seen a  prostitute? “ Well? Why don’t you come up here, and we can  talk .”

Then he sighed as he saw the blond bite his lip, before calling up. “My apologies, lovely. I have a prior engagement. Perhaps I’ll see you again.”

And with that, the blond rode off.

Raven plopped down rather ungracefully on the floor of the balcony, carefully spreading his silks around his body so they wouldn’t wrinkle.

Of course, the first potential customer he had seen in  days would be otherwise occupied. Not that he was in any fix for money. He had his regulars, after all. But… while his regulars were kind - at this point, he was popular enough, he  could pick and choose - they were all rather… unattractive. And while he might be a mere prostitute, he wasn’t blind. Nor was he immune to his own libido.

Oh, how much easier things would be if he had been born female. Then, at least, he would have had the chance to be a concubine - and they were seen in a much better light. Not that prostitution was unaccepted. It was rather common. It just wasn’t a profession accepted in polite company.

Raven stayed there, lost in his thoughts, until he noticed the fading sun with a quiet curse. Today was one of his few ‘off’ days, and he had errands to run, and people to see. Shaking his head slightly, to clear his thoughts, Raven stood up, and padded inside to change and wipe his face clean of the face-paint.

~~~

At his first knock on the slightly peeling red-painted door, he heard a commotion, and grinned. He crouched down, opening his arms in preparation for the bundle of energy that he  knew would come flying at him.

And he was right.

In less than a minute, the door was opened, and he was nearly knocked over by a screeching four year old.

“Unca Ry! Ade missed you!”

He stood up, pulling the little girl to sit on his hip. “And I missed you too, my flower.”

Then he grinned at the woman who had opened the door. “Mum! You are looking as young as ever.”

The slightly plump older red-head - Molly - smiled fondly at him. “Oh, Hadrian. Such a flatterer. We were starting to worry that you would be late.”

Hadrian shook his head. “Oh, I just had to close up shop - I got a tad bit distracted.” He winced. He hated lying to Molly, of all people, but… the truth would be even worse.”

Molly shook her head, and ushered him in, peeling Adalinde off him, ignoring her protests. “Well, go on in. Everyone is waiting. I’ll get this imp washed up.”

As he entered the dining room, Hadrian dropped a kiss on his sisters’ head, dodging the annoyed swat and clasping his brother-in-laws’ hand with a grin. Then he couldn’t help a squeak as his sister-in-law and best friend pulled him into a sudden embrace. He turned, raising an eyebrow. “’Mione, what was that for?”

He frowned as she merely shrugged. “I missed you, you idiot.”

Hadrian shook his head, and chose to embrace her back, careful of her pregnant belly, pulling away as a bread-roll hit him in the back of the head. “Oi, mate! Get your own.”

Hadrian turned, and clapped his brother on the back. “Oh, Ron. You know I prefer them to be a different form.”

Ron just laughed, and pulled him down to sit on the other side of him. “Sit, sit! Mum refused to serve us until you got home.”

~~~

Hadrian smiled as he waved good-bye. No matter his Mums’ entreaties, he pled an early morning, and refused to spend the night. That chapter of his life was over and done with, as much as he wished to have it back on his bad days.

With a small, bittersweet smile, Hadrian turned his back on his house. Yes, this would be the last visit. It was time for Hadrian to fade away. His family was happy, and well-cared for, with more money then they had while growing up. For all that Hermione came from a non-magic family, she had came to the family with quite a sizable dowry. 

With a decisive nod, Hadrian turned to apparate back to his apartment.

~~~

Raven was lounging on his balcony, admiring the stars, when he heard a rock clattering against the railing. He raised up on one elbow, and peered over the edge. All he could see was a shock of blond hair. That was more than enough, however, for blond hair was rare in these parts. 

Careful not to be seen, Raven snuck back into his apartment. It wouldn't do to be seen in his everyday robes by a potential customer, even before false dawn. Once in, though he ran his hand through his hair, turning the originally useless motion into the practiced grab and twist he used to put his hair up in a bun. 

Raven had been playing this game for what, four, five years now? And he was starting to tire of it. Perhaps... Perhaps it was time to move on, perhaps find a permanent patron, as hard as that was for those of his gender. But... The sound of another rock tore his concentration. With hands shaking ever so slightly from lack of sleep, Raven lined his eyes with kohl, and reddened both his lips and cheeks. 

It wouldn't do to appear anything less than put together. Hastily, he switched robes, this time for a rather light sleeveless silk, tied at the waist. 

With a deep breath, he pasted a smile on his face, and stepped out. 

Only to be hit on the forehead with a pebble. And that was the last straw. To hell with a potential customer. This one was surely drunk on fire whiskey. What other reason would there be for this romantic fiddle-faddle? Without saying a word, he bent down and gathered up the multiple pebbles.

~~~

The blond winced as a sudden rain of pebbles rained down upon his head with unerring accuracy. “What was that for?” he called up, finally noticing the person had came out. 

A snarl came floating down, then there was silence for a minute. Finally the man leaned over the railing, a glare barely visible on his face. “You are a fool! Go away, and don’t come back.” Then he stalked back inside.

The blond sighed, rubbing his head. Perhaps he was being foolish. After all, there was no question what the other one was. And he was Draco Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy family.

~~~

The next morning, Raven stretched, leisurely waking up. He glanced outside at the sun. It was nearly noon, and he needed to get his groceries before dark fall.

It wasn’t one of his formal silk robes he donned, but neither was it one of his utilitarian cotton ones. This was silk, yes, but it had more layers than his evening robes, akin to a kimono, but without the brightly patterned fabrics his evening robes had. He didn’t mind going out in public. After all, he was what he was, and nothing would change that. 

He was actually rather happy. With his hair up, and slight face-paint, it was obvious to all what he was, but as long as he didn’t flaunt it in their face, the city-folk were rather accepting. And, best of all, his family would never recognize him, if they happened to be looking for him.

As he browsed the stalls, mentally making his list, he was bumped into from behind. He turned with a kind word on his lips - surely it was an accident, no need to be upset - but then he saw who had knocked against him, and he snarled. “You! Why are you following me?”

The blond looked at him, something akin to panic in his eyes, and darted around him with a hissed “Not now! Hide me.”

Raven shook his head in exasperation, and looked around for what the blond could be fleeing from. He didn’t see anything, and turned around and said as much.

The blond looked at him, eyes darting ‘round. “No, no. A girl, brown hair, brown eyes. I cannot let her see me.”

~~~

Raven blew on his cup of tea, eyes looking over it at the blond. “So, do I have this straight? This… Pansy is trying to murder you, simply because you refused an engagement.”

He nodded. “Yes, I am afraid so. It seems that my mother promised her I would accept, and so she has been waiting for me.”

Raven laughed, eyes dancing. “I have never been so glad to be out of reach of all that ridiculousness. So, what are you going to do?”


	2. Tea, Flowers, and the Forgotten Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This* is how my muse works. I'll pick up something from two years ago. *sigh*. Anyways, enjoy?

“What?” Raven hissed, having to set down his tea cup, his hand was shaking so much. “You really _are_ a noble, aren’t you? Thinking that plan will actually work.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, hiding the tremors. This was _exactly_ what he had wanted… But. And there was always a ‘but’ wasn’t there? “There is no way that your parents will accept _me_ , of all people, as a proper spouse for you.” Raven paused. “I don’t even know your last name, for Merlins’ sake.”

“That’s easily fixed.” The blond commented, taking a slow sip of his own tea. “I’m Draconis Malfoy, but you should call me Draco, if this is to work.”

Raven blanched. No. How had this happened? He forced himself to laugh. “Oh, that is  _rich._ ” he shook his head. “That seals it, then. I’m a Potter.  Raised by the Weasleys. They would accept me when hell freezes over.”

Draco cocked his head, honestly confused. “What do you mean? I don’t recognize that name.”

“How is it  _I_ was raised by the Weasleys, and know, while you don’t.” Raven looked up to the heavens, begging for patience, before continuing. “Never mind. Just know that it wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?” Draco asked. “I’ve never heard that name.”

“Exactly.” Raven said, shortly, before looking out the open window. “Anyways. I have to be going, and so do you.”

“Very well.” Draco replied, getting up to his feet. “ I won’t bother you any more.”

Raven watched from the floor as the blond left, eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe that  _one_ bit. He would stake his beauty that he would hear from the Malfoy again.

~ ~~

He froze, and stared aghast at the flowers littering his balcony. A single rose would be acceptable. Even a carefully chosen bouquet. But  _this_ ? This only sent a message of haste and carelessness – and plenty of empty money to throw around.

There was no question of who had made these flowers appear.

He had only came into contact with one person recently, one person that had the money, time, and idiocy to make this happen.

Raven hissed out a breath between his teeth. With a sigh, he gathered his magic, and made a gesture with his hand. Slowly, the flowers blew off the balcony, as if a gust of wind took them. He turned on his heel, and stalked inside, not looking back. He didn’t have time for such nonsense.

If he _had_ looked back, he would have seen the way that the blonds’ mouth opened slightly at such a show of power. If he _had_ looked back, he would have seen the determined glint that entered Dracos’ eyes. He would have seen, and perhaps, just perhaps, realized what was to come.

~~~

It was an unusual sight that caused the patriarch of the Malfoy family to stop in his tracks as he passed the wide open library door. He stared in silence, unsure what to say. His son, his only child, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands directing the books levitating around him. Lucius Malfoy, with the cautiousness that had kept him alive to this point, merely shook his head, and continued on his original path. Sometimes that boy bewildered him. He would get an idea in his head, and stick with it… Like the time he had decided he needed a pet unicorn.

Lucius sighed once he was safely past the library. He only hoped they wouldn’t end up with another unicorn terrorizing their peafowl.

Draco wasn’t deaf. He heard the footsteps stop outside the doorway briefly before continuing. But he wasn’t interested in his father – _yet._ He needed to find it. Once he had seen that surge of magic, as delicate and graceful as it looked, he could recognize the strength that Raven held. And once he arrived home, the name ‘Potter’ started to sound familiar. If _only_ he could place…

His eyes caught on a line, and in his haste, only ‘Potter’ stood out. With a sigh, and a slow lowering of his hands, he let the books settle to the floor, scooping up the one he wanted. He opened it, and settled in to read.

~~~

“Mother.” Draco spoke as he rounded the corner to his mothers’ solar. “Mother, I need your advice.”

Narcissa looked up from her embroidery, crossing her hands over it as soon as she saw the look on her sons’ face. “My dragon. Of course. What can I help with.”

Draco plopped down on one of the few loose cushions on the floor. Face down. He mumbled something.

“Draconis...” Was all it took in a warning tone from Narcissa.

“I’m in love.” Draco said as he turned over, sighing.

There was a smile playing on Narcissas’ face. “Well? What is wrong with that?”

Draco paused, hesitant, for a moment. “Have you ever heard of the Potters, mother?”

“No...” Narcissa started to say, then she herself paused. “Oh. I do remember one. His wife had been my friend before I married. I didn’t know they had a child, though.”

“Apparently they did.” Draco snapped. “The heir is making his living as a whore.”

“A whore?” Narcissa gasped. “Just because he caught your eye, Draconis, doesn’t mean you should insult him.”

“I’m not, mother.” the young man gritted out, before he ran a hand through his hair, and sat up. “He calls himself Raven Potter. And mentioned he was raised by the Weasleys. He, for whatever reason, is making a living as a...” Draco sighed, and corrected himself. “Well, a high-end prostitute.”

“Now, Weasleys, I know.” Narcissa commented, a moue to her mouth. “But I wouldn’t think they would agree with his career choice, if they knew. Not that what _they_ think is worth much.”

Draco was startled by the venom his his mothers’ tone when she spoke of the Weasleys. “Mother?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, never you mind.” she snapped, before relenting. “And old blood feud, from before you or I were born. Likely over the stupidest reason, but they won’t apologize, and neither will your father.” Then she shook her head, and smiled softly at him. “Well? If he really is a Potter, then I’m sure his power is quite… intriguing.”

“Oh, most definitely.” Draco breathed out, a smile on his lips. “Graceful and delicate, and yet _powerful_.”

“Why haven’t you ensnared him, then?” Narcissa laughed. “I thought those eyes of yours could charm anyone you wanted.”

“I have a plan, mother. With your permission?” Draco asked with a grin.

“Go, go.” Narcissa smirked. “I’ll talk your father around.”

~~~

“So, Raven.” Draco drawled from where he leaned against the balcony railings, hiding a smile as the obviously startled – and half-naked - Raven jumped, and turned around. “What will it take for you to be my spouse?”

Raven took a deep breath, cursing his inattentiveness. “Why can’t you leave me alone?” he complained, ignoring the question. “I’m sure your father had a _fit_ when you mentioned me.”

“He knows better.” was Dracos’ automatic reply, with a smirk, then he softened. “Mother promised to talk him around. And since she gave birth to me, he hasn’t denied her a thing.”

Raven sank to one of the cushions, pulling a discarded robe over his shoulders. “You are insufferably rude, I hope you know.” then he sighed. “What do you want?”

“I want you.” Draco tossed back.

Oh, that arrogance annoyed Raven in anyone. He reverted to his normal defense. “You couldn’t handle me, _boy_.” he drawled, voice dropping slightly to a lower, slower pitch. “You wouldn’t even know where to start.”

With that, Raven rose sinuously up to his knees, slowly stretching his arms over his head and letting the robe gape open. As he lowered his arms, he stood up and stalked over to lean on the nearest wall, arms crossed. 

And, Raven thought as he glanced at Draco, that little bit of acting was worth the result, worth seeing the arrogant bastards’ mouth gape open. “I do have my regulars, you know.” he continued in a regular tone. “ You? You are just a new comer. Why should I loose my guaranteed income for a possibility that may never turn out.”

“But...” Draco drew the line at stammering. He had already made a fool of himself. “Fine. I’ll be back, though. One way or another, I will get you to agree.”

“No, you w...” Raven started, then sighed as the aristocrat turned and disappeared with a pop. “Oh, that brat.” But, if he was truthful, Raven had to admit – if only to himself – that he was starting to like the Malfoy heir, if only for his persistence and entertainment value.

~~~

The next day, in the market, though, almost made Raven reconsider. The first merchant, saying his fruit were paid for, that was slightly odd. It was the third stall of “Don’t worry about it, it is settled.”, that made Raven realize what was going on. The bastard of a Malfoy was taking away his independence. For magics’ sake, Raven was  _ proud _ that he made the money to live well, even with a few luxuries. Then Raven smirked. If Draco wanted to empty his trust fund vault – for surely he wouldn’t be using the main Malfoy vault on such trivialities - well, then Raven would  _ help _ him.

With that in mind, and a grin, Raven headed to his original next stop – a stall that sold robes which Raven often drooled over, yet couldn’t necessitate the spending of so many galleons on  _ clothes _ .

~~~

Enough was enough, Lucius thought, looking over the accounting. Oh, it was barely a minuscule drop in their funds – but what the _hell_ was his son doing buying clothes? _Expensive_ clothes, by the look of things.  And only a few weeks after his traditional birthday present of a new wardrobe. He stalked down the hall, intent on finding his only child and wringing some _sense_ into that head of his, when a soft “Lucius?” from his wifes’ solar stopped him.

He sighed. Not tonight, of all nights. Not on the night she… But he went in. He could never refuse his wife anything after the son she gave him, he couldn’t even refuse her portrait anything.

“Narcissa.” he acknowledged, taking in the unusual sight of her pacing the confines of her painting, rather than sitting with something productive in her hands. “What is it?”

“Our son.” she said, pointedly, her eyes somehow managing to spark with ire. “I  _ told _ you, I didn’t want him to worry about an arranged marriage. I was under the impression that he was actually in love with  _ Pansy _ , of all people, so I encouraged her. Only to find out yesterday that he is actually in love with someone else. I’m surprised he even trusted me enough to tell me!”

Lucius winced at the strident tones of his wife. “ _ Darling _ , dear heart. Didn’t I tell you that I thought better, and notified Lord Parkinson of the withdrawal of the contract offer?”

He winced at the shriek that followed. Weren’t Paintings supposed to be demure?

“No, you  _ arrogant  _ bastard.” Narcissa seethed. “It serves you right, then, who he has fallen in love with.” and Narcissa smirked. “After all, I died  giving you my son , so it is only right my son  gives  _ you _ a heart attack.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad.” Lucius winced again. He  _ always _ made the mistake of forgetting that his wife was a Black, a  _ true _ Black, no matter alive or dead. “Really.”

“It is.” she hissed. “And, so help me, Lucius, you  _ won’t _ interfere. I’m not a Black for no reason, and I do have a few tricks up my painted sleeves.”

Lucius blanched, and nodded meekly. “Yes, darling.”

She sniffed. “Fine. My lovely child has managed to find the last Potter heir.”

“Wasn’t his mot...”

“A mudblood?” Narcissa asked, with a satisfied smile. “Oh, yes. Lilly was the smartest witch I knew. But she was fostered by the Princes’, as you well know.”

Lucius took a breath, and mulled that tidbit over. “Well, I think you are over-exaggerating. That isn’t  _ too _ terrible.”

Narcissa laughed. “Oh, just wait.” then she sat down on the single chair in the painting, crossing her legs and leaning back. “ _ He _ , himself, was raised by the Weasleys.” she didn’t give her now gaping husband a chance to speak before she continued. “ _ And _ he currently is a high-end prostitute. With regulars, so I assume he is good.”

Just then, she heard footsteps, and grinned.  _ This _ would be good. 

“Mother? I did as you suggested. What next?” Draco paused as he rounded the corner. “Oh. Hello, Father.”

“As  _ you _ suggested?” Lucius gritted out, ignoring his son. “Are you helping him in this  _ foo...” _

He trailed off, suddenly unable to speak. He looked up, and saw Narcissa with her sleeves rolled up, a rune sequence tattooed onto her arm glowing. She smirked at him, but then sighed. “I guess needs must. Did you never wonder why this painting is more…  _ active _ than most?”

Narcissa shook her head slightly. “Anyways.” and then,  with an exhaled breath, she stepped forward and out of the painting, resizing to her normal height. “Ahh.” she stretched, then without warning, turned and slapped Lucius. “I’ve wanted to do that for  _ ages _ .”

Finally, she turned to her son, arms outstretched. “Come here, my dragon.”

Draco watched, eyes wide, but then ran into her arms, tucking himself smaller so he could fit under her chin. He held on tight, but spoke nothing.

She looked at Lucius over him. “As I said, I’m a Black. And I have the seer blood in me, diluted as it may be. With those two skill sets, I was able to see that Draconis here would be too much. And I was also able to enchant the portrait with blood magic. A small crack in my soul wasn’t too high a price for my child which I already loved with all my heart. And...” But she paused, with a sigh.  


“But why now?” asked Lucius, trying to make sense of things. “You could have been his mother.”

She hissed, gently rubbing circles on the slightly shaking back of Draco. “You didn’t love me, and would have only been cold towards Draconis. I was content to mother him from afar, if it meant you would love him the more.”

With that, Narcissa turned Draco, and looped an arm around his shoulder. “Come, love. Tell me all about Raven, yes?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that made sense - Narcissa, using Black Blood Magic - not quite a horocrux, but almost, made it so her essence would go into that painting. She died a few weeks after giving birth to Draco (infection set in) - and used her remaining time to finish the spell/ritual that when activated (the runes) could allow her to step out. There was a price to pay, which is why she hadn't used it until now. That price will soon become known.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it hasn't really ended, but... It is past midnight, so I need to post it, otherwise I'd never stop.


End file.
